


Fireflies

by lls_mutant



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Gen, PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-07
Updated: 2010-06-07
Packaged: 2017-10-09 23:31:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/92777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lls_mutant/pseuds/lls_mutant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prisons and wardens come in different shapes.  Some are obvious, some not so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fireflies

**Author's Note:**

> For the most part, this is gen. There is some sex in it, but I'm calling it dub con, messed up sex between Leoben and Kara and again between Felix and the Eight. There's also psychological torture/mind games. In short- this fic deals with Kara and Felix's time on New Caprica.
> 
> Thanks to [](http://rayruz.livejournal.com/profile)[**rayruz**](http://rayruz.livejournal.com/) for the beta job!

It was late. The halls of _Galactica_ were never truly silent, but most of the crew was cuddled up tight in their bunks, dreaming of shore leave or glory or home. Kara had no interest in dreaming of any of those things or in just sleeping, and so she found herself prowling the halls. Decommissioning was still two months away, but she was already missing the ship.

The lights were still on in the rec room, but there was no conversation. Kara approached curiously, just in case there were a couple of exhibitionists making use of the down time. But the door was wide open, and there was the smell of smoke. Smoke was promising, so she walked in. But when she recognized the room's sole occupant, she hesitated.

"In or out?" Gaeta said.

Kara hesitated. Gaeta's back was to her, but she could see the ashtray, the pack of cigarettes, and the half full bottle of booze, all of which made her think that she could put up with his prissy, goody-two shoes ways for at least the length of a smoke and a drink. "In," she said, coming around and sitting at his table. She pulled the chair out and stopped.

Gaeta smirked at her, his face full of self-deprecation.

"That is one hell of a shiner," she said, staring.

Gaeta shrugged. "That's nothing. Wait a few days until it's really had time to bruise."

"What the frak happened to you?" She looked around again. "Gunner off kicking whoever's ass?"

He took a deep drag off the cigarette. "I seriously doubt that."

"Gunner always was a tool. Want me to go kick whoever's ass?"

Gaeta stubbed out his cigarette. "First of all, I can kick ass just fine on my own, thank you, and second of all, it won't happen again. If it does, I'll be reporting it. But it's over with Gunner, and that's final."

Kara's eyes widened. "Wait. _Gunner_ did this?" Gaeta didn't answer, but he didn't need to. "Frak," she said.

He arched an eyebrow. "Wouldn't think you'd care."

"That kind of shit shouldn't happen."

"I agree. Which is why I told him if he comes within ten feet of me again, I'm reporting his ass to the Commander, and then walked out the door. Everyone will figure it out anyway, and he knows it. Why else would a bridge bunny get a black eye?"

"You walked out?" Kara said. "You've got more balls than I thought, Gaeta."

He shrugged again and lit another cigarette. "I'm assuming," he said slowly, "that you're not going to preach at me like Dee or Helo."

"Frak, no."

He pushed a deck of cards into the center of the table, and the pack of cigarettes as well. "Want to play, then?"

Kara looked at the cards. "You going to count them?"

His gaze was even, even with the dark bruise and the swelling around his eye. "Yes."

She sighed heavily. "Then don't go bitching if I pull your hair again."

"Fine."

He dealt. Kara lit up one of his cigarettes, noticing that they were expensive and thin. Not her normal taste, but for once, she held her tongue. Gaeta's face was calm, but his hands were shaking slightly as fanned his cards, and the smell of alcohol was extremely strong around him. Kara realized this was upset as anyone was ever going to see Felix Gaeta, and he had a damn good reason.

They didn't talk as they played, except as the game required. When one of them emptied their glass, Gaeta refilled it without comment. After a while they gave up even betting, and the game took on an even, steady rhythm that neither of them had to think much about. Kara smoked half the pack, and Gaeta smoked the other.

"You know," Gaeta finally said, when the clock hands had ticked to three in the morning and the ashtray was full, "never thought you'd be the one to get it."

"What do you mean by that?" Kara asked defensively, because she'd be damned if _Gaeta_ was going to read her mind and think they were going to bestest friends after this. But he just raised his eyebrows at her.

"The silence thing," he answered. "Thanks."

"I wasn't doing it to be nice," Kara argued. "I just didn't know what to say."

"I know. And for once you kept your mouth shut. So, thanks."

Kara cocked her head. "Yeah, well."

Gaeta leaned back, smirking. "Don't wreck it."

"You going to bed?" Kara asked.

Gaeta looked up at the clock. "I've got duty in two hours," he said. "Not much point."

"All right. Deal 'em out, then."

He smiled at her, and she looked away, because his smile was broken and that was the one thing she couldn't bear to see. But when she looked back, his face had returned to the lines it had been in all night, and she could face him again. She took the hand he dealt her, and they fell back into their silent rhythm.

At 4:30, Gaeta folded his cards and stood up. "I need to get a shower before I go to the CIC," he told her. "Feel free to finish what's left in the bottle."

"Thanks," Kara said. There was more than she thought there would be, and she realized Gaeta had stopped drinking two hours ago. She looked up at him. The skin around his eye was darker than when she'd sat down, and a ruptured blood vessel had turned the white of his eye red. "You gonna be okay?"

"Fine," Gaeta answered carelessly. He picked up the last cigarette and lit it. "See you around, Starbuck."

"Yeah." Kara studied the cards intently. "Take care, Gaeta."

"Thanks." He left the rec room, his footsteps accelerating as he transformed back into the sanctimonious, perfectionist officer that Kara couldn't stand.

She poured a drink, considered it, and then raised it to the empty door. "Good luck," she toasted him, and then drank it down.

***

The human settlement spread out beneath them. The Two that called himself Leoben was in her heavy Raider, and his hands tightened as they swooped down to the ground. The Eight watched him curiously.

"You are actually excited about this, aren't you?"

He smiled at her, and he almost looked radiant. "_She's_ here."

"_Her_," the Eight snorted, and shook her head. "It's all about her."

"Meet her, and you'll understand," Leoben promised.

"I doubt it." The Eight sighed. She looked down at the tent city that spread out below them. "I still don't understand any of this. I know that Boomer insists, and my line agrees, but…." She shrugged gracefully. "I have my reservations."

"And understandably so. She's exceptional."

"You're bragging."

"Am I?" Leoben winked at her. "You'll see why."

The Eight crossed her arms and leaned back. "Forgive me if that doesn't fill me with confidence. If one woman can stand head and shoulders above the rest, then that says a lot not only about her, but about the rest of humanity."

Leoben shrugged. "The rest of humanity is not my concern."

"Lucky you." She sat back and closed her eyes for a long moment. "I just can't help thinking that Boomer and Caprica are being far too optimistic. And for that matter, so are you."

"And I can't help thinking you're going to change your mind."

***

The Centurions fitted a gate outside the apartment, and it only took a matter of minutes. The key hung heavy in Leoban's mind. He could feel it, deep within him, an ordered sequence that would unlock the door and let him into this private little world he'd created.

It was comfortable, as far as he could tell. Cylons didn't need much in the way of creature comforts, but humans appreciated them, he knew. A bed, wide enough for two. A couch, a table and chairs. A window for light, and reinforced so that it could not be broken. A kitchen area so they could cook, and a bathroom facility. It had been quite complete when they'd landed, although it required a few modifications. And it was better than any tent anywhere in this settlement.

He heard heels on the concrete of the stairs, but he didn't have to turn to know who it was. He sensed his sister standing, staring at the little haven.

"I still don't understand," she said finally. "You'll put her in here, and then what?"

"It will take care of itself," Leoben said simply. "God will work in her."

"God's will," the Eight sighed. "Have you been outside yet? It's cold and miserable and the mud gets everywhere. We should just leave the humans here on this rock. They'll die out in misery."

"And in here, she will be able to transcend that," Leoben pointed out.

"You really think that?" the Eight asked.

"God creates love," Leoben pointed out. "And as God does, so should we."

"Create love?"

"Isn't that what we're here for? To create love between the humans and the Cylons? To wash away the past and begin anew?"

"So say we all," she said, with a roll of her eyes. "Good luck playing God. When are you going to get her?"

He smiled and the room lit up as he thought of her in here. "Right now."

***

There had been a Five that had done some undercover work on Scorpia. He had told the Eight about children, and about on warm summer nights they would capture fireflies in mason jars and run about, showing off their beauty. He'd said it was adorable, in its way, but at the same time, disturbing. They did not know what they did, that their actions would most likely result in the object of beauty's death. A lack of respect for life was bred into them from the very beginning.

The Eight was pretty sure that no more commentary than that was needed.

A mason jar and a firefly. The image was on her mind when she walked into _Colonial One_ and when she faced the humans that were going to help them create this new society.

She had seen the face before, when the Three calling herself D'Anna had transmitted her program back to the baseship. Felix Gaeta had had dark eyes and a sly smile, and they'd all laughed at his attempt to smolder into the camera. But at the same time, there had been something sincere about his words. He stared at her as she entered, and she found herself caught in his gaze for a moment.

She noted his name and his expression. He trembled with righteous anger as he stood before her, and yet, somehow, he seemed to be silently begging her to help. She hesitated, cocking her head, assessing him, and then turned away.

***

She prowled the place like an angry tiger, but Leoben didn't mind. Kara was _here_, in this apartment, and she wasn't going to leave. He reached out and touched her cheek. She recoiled from his touch, her face contorted in anger.

"This is God's will," he told her. "All of this."

"Frak God's will," Kara spat.

He'd known Kara didn't believe in God; didn't believe in her destiny. But to hear her say it, to see the fire in her eyes and the conviction in her face…. It made him wonder if God wasn't appearing to him in a different way, one he had not experienced before.

But what would happen if he let her go? He didn't have to think long on that question at all to know the answer. She would go into hiding, and she would go against God's will. She would try to destroy this society that could be built, this new peace and love that was struggling to be born. And she would hide. If he set her free, she would not come back.

He could see that truth, that inevitability. It clenched his heart and made his throat close, and he didn't know how he could deal with that emptiness, that _loss_ if she disappeared from his sight again. He could not let her go. He had to keep her here, in this beautiful prison, until her restlessness subsided and only her light remained, and they could face their destiny together.

And yet, there it was, that message from God. Kara's will mattered, and he couldn't ignore that. And really, was that what he wanted? To enslave Kara like his brethren had been themselves enslaved? To reduce Kara to a body to be used for pleasure, divorced from mind and soul? No, Kara was more than that, and he wanted all of her.

He refrained from touching her as much as he could, although it was impossible to completely resist.

***

Every time she went out into the streets, she saw the hate on the humans' faces. It didn't matter what her sisters said, she agreed with the Ones. Humanity was still a scourge, and the whole "God's Plan of Peace" or whatever they were calling it was bullshit. Absolute bullshit. No matter what Boomer was saying about peace, Eights were fighters. Warriors. She couldn't grab a gun and begin shooting; that wasn't the consensus. But she couldn't help thinking that was where they were headed anyway.

It was worse on those days she had to go into _Colonial One_. She had to be in close proximity with them then, and the impotence was smothering. They hated the Cylons, they quietly cheered for the insurgents with their bombs and their guns, and yet they bent to their will and did their bidding. The hypocrisy of it closed in on her and made her feel filthy every time she went in there.

Except when she had to deal with Gaeta.

The Eight hated Gaeta as well as the rest of them, but there was something about him… something that she couldn't put her finger on. She didn't know why she thought it; he did his assigned job and didn't make trouble, just like the rest of them. But there was something in the set of his shoulders and his posture, and she remembered he had been a soldier. She saw the even control he handled with himself, the way his fists clenched when he thought no one was watching, and the hate in his eyes whenever he looked at Baltar. Gaeta hadn't broken.

Maybe there was a war for her here, after all.

***

Kara was a soldier. It was one of the things Leoben loved most about her. That she had that fierce spirit, that she would fight for what she believed in. That she could rage against God himself until she met her destiny, found her place in God's perfect plan.

He went into their apartment, and she was there. Waiting. He smiled at her.

"Have a good day?"

"No." She said it baldly.

"Of course you didn't," he said. "You're still angry, and it consumes your soul."

"Gee," Kara muttered. "Wonder why?"

He ignored her, sitting down beside her on the sofa. "You need to let go of your anger to hear God's voice," he explained. "And when you do, you will see God's plan, and all of the anger, all of the confusion, all of the suffering will go away. You'll be able to-"

She stabbed him.

He'd known she would, and he'd left the knives in the drawer on purpose. Because she _had_ to see. She had to be able to try, had to attempt her escape. So as he died, he smiled at her, secure in the knowledge that he would be coming back to her, and she would be waiting.

After all, she had no choice.

***

"You're here late," the Eight said, walking into the room where Gaeta was sitting, papers spread out before him.

He looked up at her and nodded, and then went back to his work. He was looking at statistics; food rations and distribution. She could see at a glance he was trying to juggle the numbers. Did he really think that he could fool them? But as she looked at the numbers more closely, she could admit he was doing a good job of it. She'd let him keep this one. It wouldn't matter anyway.

She sat down, a safe distance away, dropping her hands in her lap and looking as harmless as possible. She'd been making small comments, trying to draw him out for a couple of weeks. "Are you staying much longer?" she asked, keeping her voice innocent. "You really shouldn't walk home alone these days, you know. It's dangerous."

"It's well before curfew," he said.

"I'm not talking about curfew. I'm talking about-"

"I know," he cut her off. Then he sighed. "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't be…" he cut himself off, shaking his head angrily. "It's been a long day."

"I know," she said sympathetically. "Please, let me walk you home."

All right," he sighed, gathering his papers together. He did it so casually, she'd never believe that he was up to something if she hadn't looked at the numbers herself.

They walked out of _Colonial One_ just as the sun was setting. She blinked at it. "It's pretty," she said, "the way it makes the sky pink."

Gaeta shrugged. "You should have seen the sunsets on Picon. Of course, now they're all radiated messes…."

She looked away, pretending guilt. She felt him noticing her reaction, and she smiled. And that was when she saw it- the flash of light, the setting sun on the dull metal of a gun.

"Felix!" she shouted, and pushed him away just as the gun went off. The bullet caught her in the abdomen, and she was grateful it hit the right spot.

"Frak!" He was over her. "Oh frak… gods… we'll get you to the medical tent, okay? We'll find you a doctor. Hang on."

A doctor. The idiot didn't even think that she would be back, that she would resurrect. But his face appeared in her vision, and she gasped for breath, drawing out the pain as long as she could. Let him watch her die in his protection, let the bond begin. Let him wonder why she sacrificed for him, even though it was no sacrifice at all. She let her eyes meet his, and she begged him silently.

The last thing she saw was the blood on his face and the guilt in his eyes.

***

"Leoben."

He smiled at her, toweling his hair dry. "I find it entertaining that you haven't given yourself a name," he said.

"It would be counterproductive," the Eight said primly, shrugging on her robe and picking up a comb. She began to work the teeth through the tangles "I'm sure he resorts to his default of _Sharon_."

"Trust," he mused. "Humans set a store by it."

"They certainly demand it enough," the Eight agreed sourly. "Although they're slow to give it." His smile was sour in response. "Did _she_ put you here?"

"I let her," he said. "She had to see that no matter what, I will come back to her. She needs to understand, no matter how hard that lesson may be. And you?"

"He needed to understand as well. I died for him, I'll come back to him, and the first thing I will ask is if _he_ is all right. He will understand."

"If you say so."

She smiled. "He will."

***

"How are you?" It was the first thing that Leoben had said when he walked into the room. And he saw it on Kara's face… the knowledge that he would return. It came over her like paint running down a fence post, sinking in to her consciousness. But no smile accompanied the realization.

"How are you?" It was the first thing that Eight said when she walked into _Colonial One_. And she saw it on Gaeta's face… the knowledge that she had returned. It dawned on him like the sun rising over the distant gray horizon, relief washing over him. And he smiled at her for the first time.

***

"The Four you met on Caprica," Leoben said, pouring them each a glass of water, "Simon."

"What about him?" Kara said warily. She had just finished doing a course of sit-ups. It was a move of war, to stay strong so that when the chance to fight came, she would be able to take it. But Kara was more at peace when she moved like this, so he allowed it. Now she was sitting on the floor, sweating and flushed and glowing. Leoben handed her a glass, and she took it.

"He told me something," Leoben said, sitting on the couch near her. "He told me that your hand had been broken. The fingers."

"Oh."

"And he told me why."

Kara stilled for a moment and then took a sip of her water, her motions deliberate. "That's nice. Now change the subject."

"It was your mother that broke your hand, wasn't it, Kara?" Leoben pressed. "She was the one that started you on this path."

"Nice weather today."

"When I first met you, I told you that she believed that suffering was good for the soul, and that you suffered. And it _was_ good for you, Kara. It built you into this strong, independent being who stands- sits," he amended with a smile, "here before me. But your suffering and the steel that it forged, that is not all that you are."

"I hear it might rain."

"What was that phrase I heard? 'That which does not kill us makes us stronger?' She made you strong, Kara, and you have come out the other side."

Kara glared at him. "What is your frakking _point_?"

"I want you to understand. I want you to face this and come to peace with it, so you can see what life truly is." He gestured around him at the small apartment. "I want you to be able to find contentment here, to know that this is where you belong."

She threw the remainder of her water in his face. "Shut the frak up."

Leoben laughed. "It will take you time, Kara, but it will happen. I know. I've seen it."

"You don't really believe that, do you?" she said scornfully.

Leoben just smiled. Because yes, he'd seen it, that one day, Kara would understand, and if he just _showed_ her enough, if he just _convinced_ her enough, she would even believe.

***

The Eight had begun to do her work at the table that Felix Gaeta favored as well. She didn't need paper and pens to calculate, but it made her look more human, made him feel more at ease. "Were your parents happy?" she asked him.

He furrowed his brow. "Excuse me?" It was a request for clarification- she had learned a while ago that Gaeta would answer any question put to him, because he had deemed it as an order.

"I was walking down the streets and I heard a couple fighting," she told him. "A man shouting at a woman. The names he was calling her…" she shuddered, and she saw a flash of something in his eyes. "It made me wonder why humans tie themselves to each other for life, when they bring each other such misery."

"I see," he said finally. "Yes. My parents were happy."

"And you?"

"Sure. I was happy for them."

"That's not what I meant," she said, trying to sound teasing and sisterly. "What about you? Was there anyone?"

"I haven't been an island, if that's what you mean." He looked embarrassed. "There have been people."

"Gaius?" she asked, inclining her head towards the Presidential office. He shook his head and focused on his papers. "I'm going to get something out of you," she teased, but she put an edge in her voice.

He heard it and he sighed. "Before the attacks, there was someone," he admitted. "I thought it was serious- no, it was serious. But it ended badly."

"Did he cheat on you?" she asked.

"No. He hit me," Gaeta answered.

"And you put up with it?"

"No. I left him."

She didn't want to, but she felt a little respect for him in the simple way he said that. "Are you with anyone now?"

His eyes darted towards the Presidential Office, but he shook his head. "No."

"I'm surprised."

He shrugged. "I keep busy. And with only forty thousand people left, the number of amiable men isn't what it used to be."

"But if you found someone-"

"I won't," he said sharply and then softened. "If I found someone, I would consider it, if he and I had some sort of connection. I know I've had some shitty luck, but so does everyone. But right now I have other things on my mind."

She looked down at the table, trying to hide the flash of triumph in her eyes. Because she'd just discovered that no matter how much Felix Gaeta saw and should learn from it, he'd always believe the same damn thing.

***

They met by chance, in the night, on a bluff among the settlement. The lights and fires shone below them. "They look like stars," Leoben said. "Or fireflies."

The Eight snorted. "They look like a ghetto. What are you doing up here?"

He inhaled deeply. "Worship comes in many forms. Odd, isn't it, how even on this cold and barren planet we can see the hand of God?"

"You have better eyes than I do," she muttered. The hand of God her ass. There was nothing here but mud, cold, grit, and the struggle between human and Cylon. "How's your little project coming along?"

"She still closes her eyes and turns her face away from the light." He looked at her sidewise. "And yours?"

"It's a matter of figuring out value," she sighed. "There are things you can't do to a soldier. They'll die before they break."

"You want him to break?" He seemed surprised.

"It's what you want, too."

"No, I want her to heal. To trust. To love."

"Exactly. You want her to break."

Leoben snorted and looked out over the settlement. "Do you see it?" he asked. "Do you see what we could become, what this world could be if we could all live as God intended? Do you see the glories of what could come?"

"No," the Eight said. "I see a craphole of a planet and a war that still needs fighting. Good night, Leoben. Have fun with your God." She walked down the hill, back into the oppression of humanity that was New Caprica.

***

Leoben rolled out two mats, and Kara watched him warily. "What are you doing?" she finally asked.

He stepped close to her, and she tried to pull away. "We're going to try something new," he said. "A way for you to communicate with God that you might understand."

"Not this shit-"

"Sit," he commanded her.

He thought she might argue – it was there in her face – but she sat. He sat across from her, folding his legs and then moving hers so her posture mimicked his. He picked her hands up- the skin was warm under his- and pressed her palms together. "Like this," he commanded. He pulled them in and then pushed her hands up towards the sky. "Now breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Close your eyes."

She strained against him, but he kept his hands on hers, guiding her through the motions. Even as she struggled, he kept their movements smooth and powered her into the poses, teaching her how to worship with her body. He could feel her skin, the movement of her muscles, the way she trembled under his touch. He could see fear written on her face. "Breathe," he ordered her. "Like me."

He inhaled deeply, and he heard her do the same, her breath shaking as it entered her lungs. "Good. Now out," he whispered, tightening his hands around her wrists. They felt fragile under his fingers, like he could grind the bones together. "In," he dictated, moving her arms. "Now out."

Over and over again he led her, and over and over again she followed, until she began to follow of her own accord, moving her body with his, drawing breath when he breathed. They repeated the motions, an odd sort of dance that he felt transcending his system and connecting him with God. He closed his eyes.

_She smiled. Her smile was like sunlight, that smile he had seen from the shadows of the Galactica, from nooks and crannies. The confidence, the inspiration, the steel and the storm. And as he approached, her smile only widened and she wrapped her arms around her waist._

_"I love you," she said, looking up into his face, and when he kissed her, he knew how God must taste._

He opened his eyes to see the woman before him, her muscles tight under her skin, flexing and contracted as she mirrored him. He felt the love of God wrap around them, bonding them together. Their bodies sang their praises, and they were connected; deeply, intensely, connected.

And when he saw tears streak Kara's face, he was sure that she understood.

***

It was dark in Gaeta's tent. He used candles for light, but they still couldn't cast away all the shadowy corners or the gloom that permeated the small dwelling. But she stood in the center of the tent, her feet connected with the cold dirt, watching him write.

His shoulders were tight as he hunched over the desk, and his fingers trembled as he wrote down names and numbers.

"This list," he said as he wrote. "Some of these people I haven't seen in a long time. They may already be… Gods!"

"The Ones, they keep good records," she told him. "If somebody's locked up, we can find them. And get them out. We can do this." She touched his hand, and he looked up at her, his eyes wide. "Really."

He nodded and finished the list, and then folded it over. He handed it to her without a word, putting all his hopes right into her hands, trusting her to get it right.

"We'll do it," she promised him. She looked at the trust on his face, and felt nothing but contempt. How could such an intelligent man be so blind? This wasn't a war, not like she had wanted. This was just a stupid, pathetic human, clinging to any bit of hope he could find.

Then he touched her hand again, his fingers warm on hers, and she saw it. She saw the admiration in his eyes, the hesitancy in his smile. She felt the air crackle with an unspoken question, and she kept from smiling.

She was going to win their war, and she knew exactly how she could destroy him as she did it.

***

It was dark. From the apartment window, they could see traces of the fires, "Like stars," Leoben told Kara, like he'd told the Eight.

Kara didn't say it was a ghetto.

He handed her a glass of wine and sat beside her on the sofa. She didn't move away from his touch, and his soul soared. The yoga, the _physical_, was working.

"You say that God loves everyone," Kara said quietly, and Leoben's heart lifted even further. "If that's true, why do people suffer at the hands of others? What sort of single God allows that sort of shit? It's like a mother saying 'okay, you can hit your baby brother, because I love you.'"

Leoben smiled. "It's not that simple, Kara. God loves us all, and He does have a plan for us. But His ways are complex, and sometimes we can't see what that plan is until we've wandered the roads he builds for us."

"So with the afterlife comes clarity? Once we're with God we'll understand."

"Yes."

"That's a cop out of an answer," Kara said, and Leoben could almost believe she was smiling at him. He smiled back.

"Not a cop out," he laughed. "Just a simple truth. When you learned to fly, no instructor came and inserted a chip into your head, right? You had to figure things out on your own in order to truly understand."

"I get that part," Kara agreed. "But the rest of it… I guess that's faith."

He smiled. "It is."

Kara looked up at him, her eyes wide and vulnerable. His breath caught in his throat, and then she leaned in.

Her lips were soft against his at first, but they didn't stay that way. He surrendered into the passion of her kiss, shifting on the sofa so he could pull her into his arms. She straddled his lap, her hands cupping his cheeks, coaxing him into response.

This was what he had seen, and the glory of it filled him.

They moved together, like they did each time they did the yoga, their bodies celebrating God. Then they were naked, and he was on top of her… _inside of her_… and he had no room for conscious thought. And that was when she stabbed him again, and he never even saw it coming.

She pushed him off of her as he died, kicking his ribs, standing above him naked with her eyes blazing. "Goodbye," she said, and she spat.

It didn't matter, this death, and he knew it. So did she. But this time, something inside him died for good.

***

"But this one. She killed herself. And no one knows what happened to the child." She began to cry. "I tried," she said. "I tried so hard."

"Hey, you did great." Gaeta took her hand, pulling her close. "We'll get more names. We'll get others."

She kept crying, but she moved closer. "I tried so hard," she insisted again.

He softened, the way he always did at a reminder that she had emotion, that she could feel compassion. He wanted to believe so badly, he wanted to bridge that gap between them. Ironically, he wanted what Boomer and Caprica wanted, just on a smaller scale. Their eyes met, and she knew that this was it.

His lips were soft against hers at first, and they stayed that way for a long moment. But she straddled his lap, her hands cupping his cheeks, and she coaxed him to a response. He surrendered into the passion of her kiss.

She hadn't seen this, that a human could bring her something like this.

They moved together, and she guided him to sit. Then they were naked, and she was on top of him… he was _inside of her_… and she found herself lost in the glory of sex, of carnal response. His hands were warm on her bare back, and she found that glory that her sisters always talked about. Funny how she'd never seen that coming.

Eventually, he laid down on his bed, and she stood up over him, naked with her eyes tender. "Can I join you?" she asked.

"I thought you were going to," he said, moving over and making room for her on the narrow cot.

She laid down beside this man she had just slept with, feeling miles away from him, even as he put an arm over her waist and buried his face in the crook of her neck. But for once, something connected her to him as well.

***

Time after time, Kara killed Leoben. But he couldn't stop going back to her, because his victory was too near. One of these days, she was going to take him in her arms, she was going embrace him, and she was going to tell him that she loved him. He'd seen it.

Time after time, the Eight killed the prisoners Gaeta named. But she couldn't stop going back to him, because her victory was too near. Every time she came to him, he would take her in his arms, embrace her, and tell her that he loved her. She'd just about won.

***

It was when Leoben found Kara trying to kill herself that he realized he needed drastic measures. God was _not_ speaking to Kara, at least not in a way she would hear. But she had to know. She had to understand.

And so he found Kacey.

There was an innocence about her, a vulnerability that Kara must have once had, that she _still_ had in those rare moments she wasn't fighting. Kacey didn't like him at first, but eventually she learned to trust him, and she leaned into his arms willingly. If there was anything that could show Kara God, it was the touch of this child's hands, the trust in her eyes, and the joy in her smile.

He brought her to Kara and watched her recoil. He told them they were mother and daughter, because Kara _needed_ to believe that. She needed that bond, or this child would be nothing to her and she would still turn away from her, from him, and from God. And he saw her respond, saw her _believe_, and he knew this was the way that God would work within her.

***

Gaeta was sitting on his cot, staring at the ground when she came in.

"Are you all right?" she asked, genuinely concerned. It wasn't like him not to smile when she walked in, and for a moment she worried he'd finally opened his eyes and caught on to what she was doing.

"He signed it," he said instead, and she exhaled. "Gaius frakking Baltar signed an order to have two hundred of his own people executed."

She tried to look troubled. "Oh, Felix." She sat down on the cot beside him.

He looked at her with red-rimmed eyes. "Did you see it?" he asked her. "Before Gaius signed it? Did you see the order?"

She shook her head. "I heard them talking about it," she said, "but I didn't really believe it. Are you all right?"

"Sure," he said bitterly. "I'm still alive, aren't I? These days, that's all anyone can ask for."

She placed her hand over his. "There's more," she said. "Isn't there?"

He shrugged angrily. He didn't pull his hand away, but -he didn't turn it over in hers and lace the fingers through, either. And for a brief moment, she saw a crack in his façade, a split in his defenses. But it was so brief that she thought she might have imagined seeing it, because it wasn't like Gaeta. Gaeta was a messy wound up ball of emotion, but he wasn't raw and passionate. But then he sighed and laid back on the bed, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her down across his chest, his fingers stroking her hair methodically. She couldn't see his face, but she felt him relaxing under her cheek. "It will be okay," she whispered.

"It will be," he said, like he didn't believe it. He turned his head in the direction of his desk and then nodded. "You're right. It will be."

***

The dust settled as the wind whipped through the settlement. The Eight walked through the tents, the gritty sand crunching under her feet. The emptiness was a relief, even though she knew the aftermath would not be pleasant.

Something drew her to the complex, and then to Leoben's little glass prison. She opened the door and walked down the stairs to find Leoben sitting on sofa. He was staring into space, but the slightest trace of a smile was tugging at the corner of his lips.

"She's gone," he said as the Eight walked in.

"Thrace?"

"No. Kacey."

"The child?" The Eight puzzled over that. "Why?"

"That's just it." Leoben looked up at the Eight, and his eyes were blazing. "She took her. She took Kacey with her. It was working. If I'd just had more time, Kara would have come to see it. She would have understood everything."

"Oh."

"She held my hand," Leoben said. "She reached out for me, and we began to connect. She understood God, even if it was for a short time. I thought she stayed free, but there is a piece of her that will always be connected to me."

_There was a piece of her that I have broken._ The Eight heard it loud and clear, and she smiled.

***

The basestar was so different from New Caprica, and there was the warmth of returning home. Even with Kara out of his life for now, Leoben was glad to see it, glad to be back where they belonged. This unity, this togetherness, this love… this was God's plan.

Even as they fought amongst themselves.

New Caprica left their consensus messy and unfrayed. Leoben wondered if this was what God had wanted, or if they were deviating from His path. He wandered the baseship, trying to sense where the frays and snags in the fabric of their lives were threatening to unravel their civilization.

He found the Eight perched on the corner of a resurrection tub, staring into it blindly. "Are you waiting for someone?" he asked.

She snorted. "Hardly."

"I heard that they've determined that there was a leak on New Caprica."

"Yes."

"Gaeta?" Leoben leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching her.

"Yes." She trailed her fingers in the pearly liquid. Beads stayed on her fingers when she pulled them out. "Gaeta."

"I'd think that you would be angry."

"I am angry," she said. "But what can I do?"

"You're not angry. Not all of you. There's a part of you that's glad he escaped." She scowled, but he saw the truth in her eyes. "You lost your war."

"Hardly. I lost a battle. The war isn't over, and one day he's going to realize what he's done. One day there will be a reckoning, and on that day, I _will_ win."

Leoben chuckled. "But even as you beat him down and crushed him to your will, a piece of him stayed free. You lost."

"For now."

Leoben smiled.

***

The _Demetrius_ was quiet. Felix checked the settings, sighed, and then decided to head for the kitchen for a late night snack. The ship practically flew itself; as long as he was awake to call everyone to action stations should the Cylons find them, there was no reason for him to stay glued to an outdated control panel.

To Felix's surprise, the lights in the small mess hall were on. But when he saw the room's single occupant, he stopped dead.

"In or out?" Kara asked. He hesitated, and she sighed. "Gaeta, in or out?"

"I'm not going to come around there and find you sitting with a black eye, am I?" Felix muttered.

"Frak, Gaeta, you always had a shit sense of humor." Kara shook a cigarette out of the pack in front of her, lit it, and extended it. "So in or out?"

He walked over, took the cigarette, and sat down across from her. "In."

"Good." She pushed her bottle across the table to him. "You want to deal, or should I?"

"You've got the cards," he said with a shrug. He took a deep drink. "You going to bitch me out for playing cards instead of watching the DRADIS screen, Captain?"

"Nope." She shuffled and dealt them deftly, and he scooped the hand up. They played in silence, smoking the pack of cigarettes and drinking the raw liquor that Kara had. He had the distinct impression that she'd been waiting for him for some reason, but he stayed silent, waiting for her to speak.

There was a clock on the wall. He could hear it ticking, marking off the time, orderly and precise. Their cards had a rhythm of draw, discard, flip, shuffle, deal, but there was nothing soothing about it. It was like the clock, marking their time.

"Why wouldn't you beg?" Kara exploded suddenly.

"Excuse me?" Felix asked, more to give himself a minute to recover from the surprise than because he didn't understood what she meant.

"In the airlock. Why didn't you beg us to spare your life?"

"Would you have listened?" His words were laced with bitterness.

She ignored that and leaned forward. "Gaeta. I need to know. Why didn't you beg?"

Her eyes were intense, and he heard his own voice, deep and sarcastic, answering before he could stop. "Because it wasn't a life worth saving."

"Even though you passed all that information. Even though you didn't collaborate, and you knew it. Even though someone might have listened to you and _maybe_ believed you… you still think that?"

"And you don't? You would have tossed me out that airlock anyway, except that you knew the others wouldn't let you."

"You still want me to? I can do it right now."

"I didn't _want_ you to then," Felix sighed. "There's a difference between trying to have some dignity and giving permission." He took another drink. "What brought this all on, anyway? Why are you bringing it up now? Because from the look on your face, I sure as hell don't see an apology coming."

Her mouth twisted into a derisive smirk, but she didn't send a retort back his way. Instead, she played with deck of cards, shifting them from hand to hand. "Not long after New Caprica," she finally said, "I heard a rumor about you."

"Lots of rumors then."

"And an Eight." Felix blanched. Kara's head snapped up and she caught his expression. "It's true, isn't it?" she asked.

He leaned back in his chair, affecting a coolness he didn't feel as cracks formed somewhere deep inside him. "What if it is?"

"You know what that sick frak Leoben said to me when I was in that cell? He said, 'one of these days, you're going to hold me in your arms, you're going to embrace me, you're going to tell me that you love me.' "

There was a metallic taste in Felix's mouth and his gorge rose. "Did you?"

"No."

"Good." The word was savage on his lips. "I'm glad."

She arched an eyebrow. "Are you?"

"Frak, yes." The cracks widened, and the acid began to spill out. Felix stubbed his cigarette out with more force than the action required.

"Did you do it? Did you hold her, tell her you loved her?"

"What does it matter what I did? I wasn't in that cell, and I didn't get you out."

"That's right. I should beat the shit out of you for that."

Felix stood up. "Like to see you try."

Kara arched an eyebrow. "You want me to?"

"To try? Sure. Hasn't been room to have a good boxing match in here, but everyone's asleep and we can push the tables out of the way." His voice was deceptively light, and his heart was accelerating.

"We don't have gloves," Kara said, warning more than complaining. "Or wraps."

"Who cares?" Felix began shoving the tables aside. "How long as it been since you boxed, Starbuck?"

"Too long," she agreed as she began to help him.

The space was still small, even when they had the tables moved aside, but it didn't matter. Without speaking, they both stripped off their tanks, and Kara tied her hair up into a coarse knot. They faced each other in the center of the room, touching knuckles before they both took up their stance.

There was an unholy sort of glee in Kara's eye, and Felix knew that she was seeing him, but she was also seeing Leoben's face hidden somewhere in his features. He closed his mind to everything but analyzing her; her stance, her feints, the way she circled him.

He threw the first punch. He knew that was how it would have to be, but once he did, Kara would unleash herself. And he was right. After that first punch, Kara attacked.

He fought back, but the truth was that it felt _good_. Kara didn't pull her punches, and his nerves blossomed into pain where her fists landed on his body. He tasted blood, felt sweat sluicing down his body, felt the burn of muscle exertion and her body under his own blows. He was losing, but this… this was what they both-

"Hey, hey, HEY!!! What the frak?!" Kara was suddenly gone, yanked back. Felix rubbed at his eyes, clearing them of sweat and what looked like blood, and blinked up at Helo, who was restraining Kara. "Frak, Kara, what the hell are you doing?" Helo demanded. "You're going to kill him!"

"I'm not doing anything," Kara said.

"We were boxing," Felix insisted. He spat on the floor; the red froth of blood.

"Boxing," Helo said, flat skepticism on his face. He looked from one to the other, and loosened his hold a little on Kara. When she didn't try to break free and attack Felix, he let her go completely. "You two were _boxing._ Felix, you'd better go look at yourself in a mirror."

"I'm fine," Felix said. He bent over to pick up his tanks. His ribs hurt, but not quite enough. "Really, Helo. Who did you think would win that fight?"

Helo was still shaking his head, and now he was going on about gloves and equipment. Felix caught Kara's glance. They didn't roll their eyes, they didn't smile. There was something raw and angry in Kara's eyes, and he felt it, too. Whatever had been happening, it was something they needed. Both of them. Felix didn't understand it, but whatever had sparked it would never be spoken of again, and would be left to fester and infect. He turned away from Kara, feeling sick. Damn Helo and his nobly good intentions.

"Go get yourself cleaned up, Felix," Helo ordered, his command cutting across Felix's thoughts. "I'll watch the bridge until you're done."

"Yes, sir." He stepped past Kara, and she stepped back, like touching him would contaminate her. The moment was gone, and it wasn't coming back.

Nothing was coming back, ever again.


End file.
